"The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley"

Robert Burns in "To a Mouse"

Often translated as: "The best laid plans of mice and men do often go awry."

Horse Sense and Heart Sense

By GunShy

Chapter 7: Buck Feels Like Walking

Buck had been sad before, at the thought of leaving Dodge, but sadness had been replaced by total desperation. He could only hope that Matt saw these men before he left and maybe recognized them from some wanted circulars, or at least recognized that they were trouble. These men carried an aura of sickness with them that Buck was sure Matt would smell. Matt had a knack for sniffing out killers and spoilers, and these men, if that term could be applied, were far worse than either of those.

Buck kept watch, but learned nothing more. The men passed the bottle around for a few more rounds and then went to sleep in the hay.

Buck didn't even try to sleep as he awaited the beginning of what he feared would be a tragic day. The evil that surrounded the vermin sharing the stall next to him poisoned the air.

As the first rays of the new morning streamed into the stable, Buck kept expecting his rider, but the hours ticked by with no Matt. Buck had been sure Matt would want to get an early start and he desperately wanted him to get here before these men left. He wanted Matt to see them and smell them. But alas, that was not to be. By eight, the men had saddled up and left the stable planning to get breakfast at Delmonico's. Hank had demanded they pay for sleeping in the stable and they had complied, although their attitude had been surly.

With the men gone, Buck's strategy changed. Now, he wanted Matt to get here… later. Whatever happened, Matt could not leave town before the men tried to execute their plan. Buck was shifting from one foot to the other, hoping and hoping that Matt would not walk through that door. But, of course, he did. That's just the way Buck's luck was going.

Buck watched as Matt paid Hank from a much larger stack of bills than Buck had ever seen him carry. Then he saddled Buck up, attached the bedroll, heavy saddlebags and canteens, and shoved the rifle in its scabbard and led him out of the stable. Matt's Marshal façade was firmly in place and no emotion showed on his face, but Buck knew underneath that tough exterior, Matt was feeling the pain of his choice, but he was still determined to stick to his plan. No one could out-stubborn Matt Dillon. Hank didn't say much beyond the required, "Hello, Marshal," when Matt arrived and "Take care out there," when he left. Everybody had heard what had happened at the Long Branch. The whole town knew Matt planned to leave Kitty and Kansas, but no one knew exactly why. Buck figured that Hank figured that Matt was probably in no mood to talk about where he was going or why he was leaving. Buck knew that Hank was absolutely right, but a little conversation would have kept Matt in town longer. Heck, Hank could have even mentioned those surly, suspicious looking characters that spent the night in the stable, but he didn't. This day continued to go awry.

Once out of the stable, Matt mounted up and let Buck know he was ready to get out of Dodge. It was obviously Matt's plan that Buck should trot. With the decision made and the time at hand, Matt just wanted to get out of town as quickly as possible, but Buck decided he would walk. He was just a horse and sometimes a horse felt like walking and that was just how he felt, right then. He felt like walking so that was what he did. In a minute, he might just feel like standing. Making a horse do something he didn't want to do was not easy.

Matt was not happy. Buck well knew that Matt thought that when he gave the signal to trot, that was what they should do, and Buck always gave him his way… every single time, until today. Today, Buck felt like walking, slowly. Buck could feel Matt's displeasure growing by the second, but he chose to ignore it. But even walking slowly, they were almost out of town.

Matt decided to voice his displeasure. "Dammit Buck, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Matt rarely spoke to Buck and never in that tone of voice. Buck thought to himself that maybe he should limp a little. Maybe Matt would be a little sympathetic then. At that point, they both heard a shot fired from the direction of the Long Branch. Now, Matt wanted Buck to gallop, and this time Buck was in total agreement, so galloping is what he did, right down to the Long Branch.

Buck, as so often happened, was going to have a front row seat to whatever happened next. Matt leaped from the saddle, dropped the reins to the ground, and raced inside pulling his Colt as he bolted through the doors. A man to the right of the bat-wing doors turned a gun on him, and, in a single fluid motion, Matt pistol-whipped him as he stepped down onto the main floor. Buck recognized the fallen man as fat Coats.

Buck watched as Matt made a split-second assessment of the situation. Festus was lying unconscious to the left of the door, blood on his forehead, his gun just beyond his outstretched hand. Doc was standing a short distance away, frozen in position, with his bag in one hand, and Sam was leaning against the far wall, woozy, but at least partially conscious. But the most important part of this scene was Kitty, over near the bar with two rough looking men pulling her towards the back exit. The one on the left was tightly gripping her right upper arm in one hand, and holding a gun in the other. The second one shifted behind her as Matt burst through the batwing doors, and he was now using her as a shield. His left arm was wrapped tightly around her chest pinning her left arm to her side. The knife he was wielding in his right was pressed against her throat. He had a jagged-scar running down one side of his face.

He grinned maliciously at the Marshal. "Look, Bates, the law come to visit and he done busted Coat's head.

Bates said nothing, but aimed his gun directly at the lawman.

Matt, still holding his gun, ignored Bates and glared at the scar-faced man, "Let her go or I'll kill ya. I swear, I will."

"Sure you will," the scar-faced man snarled disdainfully. "You drop that gun, lawdog or I'll slit her throat and you can watch her bleed." His scarred face was even more distorted by the malevolent grin that he fixed on the Marshal. "There's still two of us and only one of you, case you can't count so good."

Buck could almost see Matt running his options through his head, and finding none to his liking.

Kitty pleaded, "Don't do it, Matt."

Scarface pressed his knife against her throat and a thin line of blood appeared. "Shut up, Red, iffen you want to see the next min…"

Matt interrupted. "Stop, I'm dropping it… just… don't hurt her. Nobody needs to get hurt." Matt tossed his gun on to the floor. Buck sure hoped that hadn't been a fatal mistake, but he also knew that Matt would play this out the best way he could to get Kitty away from those men unscathed.

"Now get your hands up."

Matt complied even as Buck heard shouts and boots on the boardwalk. The shot was drawing a crowd. Complications.

An increasingly agitated scarface ordered, "Get rid of em."

Matt, never taking his eyes off Kitty and the knife at her throat, mustered his Marshal's voice. "You men, back off. Clear the boardwalk." Buck could see that Matt was sweating, saw his relief as the men moved away. Then Newly was there, taking control of the situation outside, leaving Matt to take control of the situation inside.

"That's real good, lawdog. Now kick that gun over here."

Matt, on the edge of hyperventilating quickly complied, taking a step forward as he kicked the gun towards the scar-faced man.

Bates leaned over and picked it up never taking his eyes off the lawman. He quickly straightened up as he dropped the extra gun in his empty holster.

Buck saw Kitty catch Matt's eyes, her expression a mixture of love, regret, and fear, but her voice was steady. "I thought I told you, I never wanted to see you again."

"You did, Kitty." Another step forward.

Kitty added sadly, "You should have listened."

"Shut up, whore. I'm gonna learn you to keep that mouth shut," threatened scarface.

Matt tried to pull the attention back to him. "How about you let the lady go and just get on out of here and we'll forget the whole thing?" Another step forward.

"Lady?" scoffed the scarred man. "I don't think so. She's a whore and she owes me. She cut me." The man leaned over, licked at her ear and grinned lewdly at the Marshal . "Maybe we'll take you along, let you participate even."

Matt gritted his teeth, tried to control his breathing, and took another step forward. What little patience he had managed to garner was now exhausted. He was through with reason and his voice now had a threatening edge. "I'm warning you. Let. Her. Go."

The man with the gun hadn't said anything, but he was talking now. 'Law, stop right there or I'm gonna blow a hole in you. I got no use for your stinkin kind. C'mon, Clyde, let's get outta here while we still can."

Matt was close now, two, maybe three steps, but was he close enough? Clyde, apparently thinking Bates had the law at bay, started to move towards the door. Eyes glinting malevolently, he moved the knife from Kitty's throat, running it admiringly through her gleaming red hair, his fingers possessively clutching at her breast. "Let's go, red."

Matt, seeing his chance, charged the knife wielder, yelling, "Now, Kitty," hoping she would be prepared to take evasive action once he got scar-face off of her. Both of his hands locked around scar-face's wrist and Matt used his body as a barricade between the gunmen and Kitty while he pulled the knife away from her and up over the scar-faced man's head, literally yanking the man off his feet as Kitty slipped loose.

Unfortunately the man with the gun, although startled by the turn of events, had plenty of time to fire two shots into him before Matt was able to twist his body to the left yanking scar face into the path of the third and fourth bullets. Matt dropped the now limp body and before Bates could fire a fifth shot, plunged his left fist into the man's midsection and then as the man started to double over, Matt put every bit of his remaining strength and fury into delivering the powerful backhanded right for which he was famous. The force of the blow propelled the man backwards, his head striking the edge of the bar as he tumbled to the floor.

Matt stumbled, falling back against the bar, steadying himself with his right hand, his left gripping his side. Buck could see blood oozing out between his fingers. Too much blood. Buck had purposefully disobeyed Matt for the first time in his entire existence, and it looked like that decision could cost Matt his life. Buck now had first-hand experience with the kind of guilt that Matt carried and it hurt him more than he had ever imagined, with decisions came responsibility.

Matt painfully gasped. "Grab the guns, Doc. Get em all." Kitty rushed to support him as his knees buckled and he slowly slipped to the floor. His size made it impossible for her to do more than slow his collapse.

Buck exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as Kitty was pulled to the floor, still holding on to Matt. She struggled to drag his upper body into her lap, searching for the source of the blood that was soaking his shirt.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, Buck was vaguely aware of Doc gathering up all the guns as Matt had requested and then crouching down to examine Festus. He saw Sam struggling to his feet massaging the back of his head. But Buck's main focus was on Matt, willing him to live. He saw Matt reach his blood-covered left hand over and grasp Kitty's wrist and hand, pulling it towards his chest where he cradled it against his heart, next to his badge, heard him weakly ask her if she was all right.

Her eyes locked on his as she quickly assured him, "I'm fine… fine. They didn't hurt me at all."

Buck thought the pain in her eyes and voice gave lie to her declaration. He saw Matt's relieved smile as awareness slowly slipped from his features and he slumped in her arms. Buck whinnied softly. He had gotten Matt here in time to save Kitty, but at what cost. He inhaled deeply and released the breath in a long sigh of sadness. Buck was certain that Matt would approve the choice that he had made… to walk… such a little decision. Matt would unquestionably choose to trade his life for his beloved Kitty's. Had in fact just made that choice. Buck understood all of this in his head, but he wondered if his head could ever convince his heart. Buck would remember his one act of disobedience forever.

To be continued-